Ryan Towle
07-31-2011, 02:03 PM
I found this article while searching the web a few weeks ago. Sends chills down my spine.
The first day I ever worked at Pirates Of The Caribbean, it was humid early morning in the summer. The building was quiet and still, the water was glassy and calm, and the audio-animatronics were twitching. Those things move after they've been turned off, and spasm occasionally at the wrist or neck. But the eeriest thing was the silence - it isn't until you've seen the Magic Kingdom utterly abandoned and quiet that you realize it’s not a place for human beings. All that warmth you feel in the bright light of day really comes from that reassuring music, the faces, and the people. Under work-lights and powered down periods, those attractions are more like ghost houses, museums staffed by nobody for a crowd that may never return. As I began to change into my newly acquired pirate uniform, a voice boomed from the PA system: "Good morning, George."
George was a young man who, while welding on an extremely high area of the ride during its construction, fell to his death. From day one of the operation of the attraction - December 15, 1973 - inexplicable events have plagued it. Breakdowns were constant and unmotivated. Female cast-members were mysteriously patted on their rear or had their bra straps snapped. Stories of George grew. In the early years, it is said that an old woman would often enter the ride and ask for a boat to herself. On the in-ride security cameras, she could be seen weeping and talking to nobody. Eventually, it was discovered that she was talking to her son, George.
A second, and rather unsettling, component of the story comes into play surrounding the area near the waterfall, where the boats take a brief plunge down a drop. At the very bottom of the down-ramp, the boats take a sharp left turn to proceed into the famous scene of the pirate ship attacking the fort, known as Bombardment Bay. This left-hand turn is the only area within the ride that the metal guides to the track poke above the water. Although it is a hazard for any hand trailing in the water, the boats are safely steered through the sharp turn. Legend tells us that for a few months after the grand opening, these raised metal guides were not present. This resulted in one particularly light boat hitting the bottom of the drop, hydroplaning out of the track guides, careening into the cave wall, and killing two women sitting in the front row. "The Ladies", as they would be known as from then on, would go on to become perhaps the most feared inhabitants of Pirates of the Caribbean.
The tallest structure within the ride is a multi-windowed tower. It can be seen to the right of Carlos' house in the Well scene, and again from a different viewpoint, later in the ride during the Burning City scene. This structure is supposedly the one which George fell from during construction, and his initials, carved on the bottom of the tower, cannot be painted over - they will bleed through the paint. The tower is called George's Tower, and rumor has it that if one sees the light on in George's tower from the Well scene, it means that George is "home". If you get to the Burning City and notice that light is still burning in George's Tower - it often is not - then something bad is about to happen.
Continuing into the tunnel, after the Burning City scene, is the Jail scene. To the right, is the famous dog, keys dangling from mouth, taunting the audio-animatronic prisoners. Behind the dog, one comes across an inauspicious set of steps which lead up to a door. This door is George's Door, and it must be closed at all times. If George's Door is left open, the ride should not be powered up in the morning. Building maintenance and Imagineering know well enough to shut it behind them, however, sometimes the door begins the day shut and will, in the middle of the day, mysteriously creak open If George's Door is open, it is said, a serious breakdown is sure to follow. As you can imagine, if the light is on in George's Tower and George's Door is open, it is considered to be an especially bad portent.
What a textbook account of all these customs, traditions and superstitions fails to convey is the day-to-day 'reality' of George. The morning and evening greetings to George over the PA are indeed mandated by Disney management, and any deviation will result in the day's breakdowns being explicitly blamed on the closing cast-member of a previous night. Switches, doors, water sensors and other basic mechanics sometimes inexplicably malfunction, causing the ride computer to enter a "cycle out" mode, which means that the boat load gates lock, and the computer enters a countdown until a cast-member manually re-opens, or “keys” the ride’s system back on. The only problem is, the manual start-up is located at the bottom of the drop in the caves area, resulting in the single most feared task by any cast-member.
The walk alone, just to get to the area is traumatic, dimly lit and wet. Cast-members who need to perform this task must wait in the area near the manual start-up until another cast-member calls in on a radio at the exact moment in which the start-up must be initiated. It is often during this waiting period in the extreme darkness of the tunnel, that many cast-members are hit with an overpowering feeling, and one cannot stop their mind from thinking of those women. I cannot here exaggerate when I say that those times I had spent waiting at the bottom of the down-ramp count as among the most miserable moments of my life. The low lighting is not helpful, the water continues to rush past you, and every second you expect to see a boat round the corner, perhaps with two bloody figures seated in the front row.
The first day I ever worked at Pirates Of The Caribbean, it was humid early morning in the summer. The building was quiet and still, the water was glassy and calm, and the audio-animatronics were twitching. Those things move after they've been turned off, and spasm occasionally at the wrist or neck. But the eeriest thing was the silence - it isn't until you've seen the Magic Kingdom utterly abandoned and quiet that you realize it’s not a place for human beings. All that warmth you feel in the bright light of day really comes from that reassuring music, the faces, and the people. Under work-lights and powered down periods, those attractions are more like ghost houses, museums staffed by nobody for a crowd that may never return. As I began to change into my newly acquired pirate uniform, a voice boomed from the PA system: "Good morning, George."
George was a young man who, while welding on an extremely high area of the ride during its construction, fell to his death. From day one of the operation of the attraction - December 15, 1973 - inexplicable events have plagued it. Breakdowns were constant and unmotivated. Female cast-members were mysteriously patted on their rear or had their bra straps snapped. Stories of George grew. In the early years, it is said that an old woman would often enter the ride and ask for a boat to herself. On the in-ride security cameras, she could be seen weeping and talking to nobody. Eventually, it was discovered that she was talking to her son, George.
A second, and rather unsettling, component of the story comes into play surrounding the area near the waterfall, where the boats take a brief plunge down a drop. At the very bottom of the down-ramp, the boats take a sharp left turn to proceed into the famous scene of the pirate ship attacking the fort, known as Bombardment Bay. This left-hand turn is the only area within the ride that the metal guides to the track poke above the water. Although it is a hazard for any hand trailing in the water, the boats are safely steered through the sharp turn. Legend tells us that for a few months after the grand opening, these raised metal guides were not present. This resulted in one particularly light boat hitting the bottom of the drop, hydroplaning out of the track guides, careening into the cave wall, and killing two women sitting in the front row. "The Ladies", as they would be known as from then on, would go on to become perhaps the most feared inhabitants of Pirates of the Caribbean.
The tallest structure within the ride is a multi-windowed tower. It can be seen to the right of Carlos' house in the Well scene, and again from a different viewpoint, later in the ride during the Burning City scene. This structure is supposedly the one which George fell from during construction, and his initials, carved on the bottom of the tower, cannot be painted over - they will bleed through the paint. The tower is called George's Tower, and rumor has it that if one sees the light on in George's tower from the Well scene, it means that George is "home". If you get to the Burning City and notice that light is still burning in George's Tower - it often is not - then something bad is about to happen.
Continuing into the tunnel, after the Burning City scene, is the Jail scene. To the right, is the famous dog, keys dangling from mouth, taunting the audio-animatronic prisoners. Behind the dog, one comes across an inauspicious set of steps which lead up to a door. This door is George's Door, and it must be closed at all times. If George's Door is left open, the ride should not be powered up in the morning. Building maintenance and Imagineering know well enough to shut it behind them, however, sometimes the door begins the day shut and will, in the middle of the day, mysteriously creak open If George's Door is open, it is said, a serious breakdown is sure to follow. As you can imagine, if the light is on in George's Tower and George's Door is open, it is considered to be an especially bad portent.
What a textbook account of all these customs, traditions and superstitions fails to convey is the day-to-day 'reality' of George. The morning and evening greetings to George over the PA are indeed mandated by Disney management, and any deviation will result in the day's breakdowns being explicitly blamed on the closing cast-member of a previous night. Switches, doors, water sensors and other basic mechanics sometimes inexplicably malfunction, causing the ride computer to enter a "cycle out" mode, which means that the boat load gates lock, and the computer enters a countdown until a cast-member manually re-opens, or “keys” the ride’s system back on. The only problem is, the manual start-up is located at the bottom of the drop in the caves area, resulting in the single most feared task by any cast-member.
The walk alone, just to get to the area is traumatic, dimly lit and wet. Cast-members who need to perform this task must wait in the area near the manual start-up until another cast-member calls in on a radio at the exact moment in which the start-up must be initiated. It is often during this waiting period in the extreme darkness of the tunnel, that many cast-members are hit with an overpowering feeling, and one cannot stop their mind from thinking of those women. I cannot here exaggerate when I say that those times I had spent waiting at the bottom of the down-ramp count as among the most miserable moments of my life. The low lighting is not helpful, the water continues to rush past you, and every second you expect to see a boat round the corner, perhaps with two bloody figures seated in the front row.